


Interlude: Call You Mom

by Fabricati, tluthal



Series: Monster Hell [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cramps, Gen, I am not your mother you heathen, Reader is dying, probably not what you're expecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13340844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabricati/pseuds/Fabricati, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tluthal/pseuds/tluthal
Summary: In which Frisk tries something different, this time.





	Interlude: Call You Mom

You had just moved to Ebott a month or so ago, into a low-income housing complex. It was a surprisingly nice place, with three-story brick buildings arranged in two circles, a single drive connecting the two. The nearby housing authority complex wasn't particularly nice, but the area was safe enough. Hell, the rent was low enough you’d sprung for a two-bedroom flat instead of one. You’d managed to line up a job that was... not great, but paid what you needed and would give you enough hours. Like most afternoons before your closing shift, you’d sprawled out on your balcony with a cup of coffee to attempt to wake up.

That kid was out on the sidewalk in the center of your circular drive again. You had noticed they spent most of the day after school out there, but usually by now they were inside... and it was a bit cold for the kid to be out this late. You sighed. You had work in an hour but...

“Uuuuuugh fine...” Guilty conscience would kill you if you didn’t go at least check on them.

You made your way downstairs and shivered when you stepped outside again. Okay, it was way too _cold_ for that kid to be sitting out in just a sweater, too. They looked up at your approach, dark red eyes wide in shock.

“Heya, kiddo. Everything alright? You’re usually inside by now.” Goosebumps ran up your arms under the sweater now that you didn’t have liquid energy to warm you up.

They looked away, reaching up to grasp one of their arms.

You frowned a little. “Mom and dad not home from work yet? Forget yer keys?”

They nodded slowly. You had a feeling they weren’t telling the truth.

“... You wanna come inside and wait at my place ‘til they get back? Get warmed up, maybe a snack?”

They glanced up at you or... no, a bit past you, and bit their lip hard. Your frown deepened and you started to look towards whatever they were looking at, when a pair of small, cold hands wrapped tightly around the one closer to them.

“Y-yes. Please.” Their voice was quiet and trembling.

You looked back at them, startled, then felt a smile curving your lips. You squeezed their hands gently and started to lead them back to your apartment. They came silently, clinging so hard to your hand you wondered if you’d end up with bruises, especially when one of their hands moved to your wrist for a more secure grip, pulling your arm close to their chest.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay.” You lead them into the little entryway and unlocked the door at the base of your stairs, heading up. They stumbled on the steps a little and you stopped, arm going rock solid so they could steady themselves. “Let’s get you warmed up. You drink tea?” You shooed them to the cot that was serving as a combination of bed and couch, wrapping a blanket around them firmly. A tiny nod answered you, so you went to heat up water and make them some nice hot tea. When you came back with the sugary hot leaf water they’d shed their shoes and curled themselves into a blanket burrito against your pillows. You handed them the tea carefully and sat down at the other end of it, giving them a little space.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes while they cradled the steaming mug and sipped at the hot liquid inside. You were sure their tongue was scalded, but didn’t fuss over it. They probably needed the heat.

“Any idea what time they’ll probably be back?” You prodded once they’d finished it off.

They slowly shook their head. “I dunno.” A reluctant shrug. “They didn’t say.”

“... They didn’t say.” You felt yourself go cold with rage and looked away to control your temper. You let out a slow, deep breath.

“N-no.” They squirmed down into the blankets, staring at their hands.

“... Sometime tonight?”

Another head shake.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and grabbed your phone. “Hey, who’s the CSM tonight? Okay, can I talk to her? It’s W___. Thanks.” The kid stared up at you in awe. “Hey, it’s W___, I had an emergency come up, I can’t make it in tonight. I know, I’m sorry, I can make up for it tomorrow, this is just... Bad. Alright, yeah, see ya tomorrow.”

“You’re staying home? For me?”

You managed a grin for them. “Well, yeah, can’t just leave you alone all night. Whaddaya want for dinner? I don’t have anything fancy but...”

They admit their parents probably aren’t coming back on the third day. You’d figured it out by then, but that was when you took them down to the police station. Ebott Town was a small enough area that they didn’t really have a designated foster home, so four hours later you were designated Frisk’s temporary guardian and had made arrangements for the monthly foster payments. They were almost half of your paycheck, a welcome relief.

You even managed to convince the police and the apartment managers to let the two of you into Frisk’s old apartment to get what few things they had. It turned out to be a handful of other clothes - none of it seasonally appropriate - another pair of shoes, worn to tatters, an old mattress and a blanket you were certain was older than Frisk. Their parents had left a few things behind as well, namely their furniture. You ruthlessly pinched the creaky old bed, busted-up dresser, and a single comfy-looking recliner when the apartment owner told you they’d be moving everything to the curb in the morning. Searching their closets and pantry turned up a bit of still-good food and an old coat that was better than nothing.

By the end of the week, your apartment was unrecognizable. You’d bug-bombed the entire place, of course, but you now had a proper bed, had used the cot to make the kid, Frisk, a proper bed, and were starting to acquire the general sloppiness that came with having two not-particularly-neat people living in the same space. Thankfully Frisk’s schooling was still paid for, but you made a mental note to put some of the money aside for the next year.

Before you knew it, winter break rolled around. Frisk was growing like a weed - you bought their clothing three or more sizes too big and took it in until they needed more space - and had managed to scrape by with average grades despite everything else that had happened. Everything was going fine. Well, okay, you were getting monster cramps that lasted longer and longer every month, but the kid was doing good. You could deal.

“Well wouldja look at that. They’re letting everyone out in time for Yule. You wanna go to a bonfire up on the mountain?” You grinned down at them, watching them shuffle around in their pajamas on the morning of their last school day before the break.

They jumped and looked up at you guiltily. “On the mountain?”

“Yeah! Some of my coworkers are talking about doing one, I told ‘em I’d think about it. What do you think? Wanna sit by a fire and watch me make a fool of myself with a bunch of old ladies?”

“Sure, mom.”

Both of you froze. You grinned softly and pulled them close, leaning down to kiss their forehead. “Well whaddaya know. You got that christmas fever been goin’ around, I better call the nurse and tell her you can’t make it.”

Frisk squeaked and pulled their fuzzy sleep shirt over their nose.

Months passed, and the cramping grew worse. You worried and tried to hide it from the kid, but you couldn’t afford to go to the doctor right now. By the time Oestara rolled around, though, there was no denying they knew. The first morning of spring break they woke you up by dumping your very full, very heavy backpack beside you.

“Frisk? Th’hell kiddo, wassis for?”

They looked down at you, eyes shining with determination. “We’ve gotta go up the mountain. It’s important.”

You groaned. “First thing in the morning?”

“It’s important!” They tugged on your arm until you finally relented and got up, yawning and grumbling protests. You got breakfast on the way there, not sure what bug had crawled up your kid’s ass, but you did know that when they were this stubborn, there was a damn good reason.

The hike, after you parked, was relatively pleasant... until they broke off the trail. Then you had to concentrate, and found yourself cursing your lack of foresight in eating breakfast. The four halts you had to call to answer mother nature slowed you down, but it was only a bit past two when you stumbled into the clearing. A great chasm yawned in the center of it, and it was that that Frisk made a beeline for.

“Frisk, what the hell, stay away from that--” When you grabbed for them, they grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you with a force that made your heart stop. “Frisk!”

You stumbled over the edge and they _jumped_ into your arms. You curled around them tightly, praying to every god you could think of that they’d be okay.

* * *

Your everything hurt. You didn’t even try to stop the stream of blasphemies, imprecations, and general foul language that exploded out of you as you regained consciousness. You tried to roll over, but a heavy weight across your front prevented you. You patted it, eyes screwed shut, and determined that it was probably your kid. The lack of broken back told you that you must have gotten your backpack off before you hit.

“Frisk, gerrof ya li’l shit.”

“Nnnnnuh.” They curled into you harder, bony shoulder digging into your sternum and coaxing another irritated curse from you when you regained your breath.

“S’rsly Frisk, yer--” Your breath hitched again as another wave of pain rolled over you. Nononono, not now! “--heavy.”  It wheezed out and Frisk scrambled off of you. You were certain if you could open your eyes that they’d be staring at you in wide-eyed terror.

“M-mom?” They touched your forehead with shaking fingers.

You bit your lip to keep from starting to swear again, or scream, curling into the tightest ball you could manage as the pain ravaged you.

“Stay here! I’m-- I’m gonna get help!” They hugged you tightly for a moment, then stood and dashed off.

With them gone you reached out and grabbed a fistful of the greenery you could feel around you. “S’rry.” You hated to do this, but the pain was so overwhelming... You reached out and began to drain the energy from the plants. You felt the ones in your grasp wither away to twigs but it wasn’t enough-- the root bed, follow the root bed--

“ _ **WHaT T H E FucKENING--”**_

Your eyes snapped open as more energy than you had intended to pull rushed into you, before the shock snapped the connection. You heard less-distinct yelling from what you could only guess was the next room, and slowly dragged your eyes towards it. You felt... better, but not well.

Shuffling feet and bony legs met your gaze, but you didn’t quite register what you were looking at until the stranger plopped into the wilted flowerbed next to you, pillowed his head on his arms, and turned a rictus grin on you.

“hey. comfy?”

You briefly contemplated fainting dead away and letting the sweet embrace of oblivion comfort you. But that’d mean leaving your kid alone with... this guy.

“No,” your voice was hoarse from not screaming, “not really.”

"well. we'd better get you out of here then. let's see, last time i was here was fuckoff never ago, so--” he? You were fairly certain this... skeleton... was a guy skeleton, grumbled while standing up, “think we're gonna have to do this-- the old fashioned way--" He grunted and strained to get you up and over his shoulder.

Naturally his shoulder caught the worst place and you yelped out a strangled string of curses. He froze and shifted carefully, ending up with your arm over his shoulders, both his arms wrapped around you like you were going to break if he moved wrong. You shook for a moment before you could get a deep enough breath to speak again.

“I’m okay. Where’s Frisk?”

“who the fuck is frisk. if you mean the hell-child who watched a flower wrench its face, glitch the fuck out and run, they’re with toriel.”

You frowned at him, almost nose to nose with him. “... Frisk isn’t a hell-child. I’ve dealt with hell-children, and--”

The ground at your feet erupted, a flower emerging from the detris you’d turned the flowerbed into. A three-foot-tall flower with a grin that took up half of its eerily morphable face. “Well, isn’t this **ADORABLE**.”

“... See, _that’s_ a hell-child.”

“you know, normally i’d be inclined to argue with you but right now i think we need to fuck off.”

“TOO LATE!” The flower declared. The world faded to gray, then black. A series of white lines surrounded you and the skeleton, everything taking on a monochrome cast except for-- for the _ripping_ sensation and a brilliant green light that emerged from your chest. Little particles of the same brilliant hue fell in towards it while light pulsed from a heart shape at the center.

A circle of little white pellets surrounded you.

Your eyes narrowed and you reached out to cup the light - you guessed your soul - protectively. “Y’little _shit_ , fuck off before I rip you out of the _ground,_ _**braid** _ _your roots, AND USE YOU FOR A_ _**WALKING STICK**_.”

The pellets got closer, and you reached out with a clawing, raking motion, ripping the monochrome flower half a foot out of the ground. The pellets dropped to the floor of the... battle grid? What was this, TOME? and the flower let out a squeaky-toy noise. You kept pulling.

This was about when a fireball the size of Frisk’s head came out of nowhere, causing another squeaky-toy noise, and ripping the flower all the way out of the ground and your grasp as well. A tall, furry angel stepped into view, carrying Frisk in one arm and frowning deeply.

“Sans, what is going on.”

The world went black again, accompanied by a quiet, heartfelt “shit.”

* * *

The world drifted back into focus slowly, accompanied by scarlet leaves. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking up at a tree gently shedding leaves on you. You were laid out on what felt like a folded-over comforter and a single pillow. Nothing over you except leaves that were starting to pile up.

“so, K I D, you want to tell me what you’re doing back here, with a REAL human?”

“She’s my mom. She’s... hurting.”

“gee, that sounds awful familiar.”

“S-sans, I’m not going to hurt anyone this time! I’m not. She... she won’t let anyone hurt me. So I don’t... need... to...” The voices were coming from the other side of the tree. You quickly closed your eyes again.

“so what’s the plan this time? can’t get out without killing _somebody_. she can’t either.”

“I don’t think she can eat human food anymore.” The mumble was so quiet you almost missed it. The resultant silence was almost deafening. “It hurts her. She’s been trying to hide it for months but it’s getting worse and worse, and... she’s taking care of me, so she won’t go see a doctor but I don’t think they could help anymore anyways.”

“wowie, is that some empathy i’m hearing? i’m shocked and appalled. you didn’t steal any of hers, didja?”

“I don’t know? Maybe! But-- look, we won’t even leave the Ruins. Okay? I won’t even ask Toriel about it. We’ll stay here where you can keep an eye on me, just...”

There was another long, uncomfortable silence. “how much does she matter to you, kid?”

The silence was oppressive. “She's the only one who cares. She didn't just decide I was hers the way Toriel does, she... Saw I was in trouble and helped because I needed help, not because she wanted a kid.”

There was a moment where you could hear several bones clacking against the tree. Someone took a step in the wide leaf cover; this was Frisk backing away a little. “you know what? all right listen. if-- _if_ you can get to alphys without killing anyone. _anyone._ not even jerry. i’ll let you ask her for help. it might not be what you expect. but i’ll let you ask. and i’ll be waiting. and watching. understand?”

Another long pause. “Okay. She’d be disappointed if I hurt someone I didn't have to, anyways. But I mean... it’s _Jerry_.”

“i hate him too, kid, but i’m serious. and you know me. i keep my promises real careful. got it?”

“ _Fiiiine_.” You could hear a shoe scuff in the leaves before Frisk’s footsteps retreated.

“you heard all of that, didn't you?” a tired voice asked as Frisk’s footsteps faded. You slowly raised a hand and flipped the bird at the shit of a skeleton. He sat down by your head heavily. From the sound of it, he was leaning against the tree. “yeah well. you probably noticed that kid and i have history. it’s a lot of history. fuckin’ books of it, all lined up on a goddamned bookshelf with some cherries on top. i’m not super interested in what happens to them. but you? if what you’ve shown so far is really what you are? i actually kinda hope alphys really can help you. that’s why i’m doing this. if you’re both for real, that is. what with me and them, i’ve lost a lot of my trust in humans. prove me wrong, human mom. prove me wrong.”

With that he stood up. “need a hand?”

“Human mom?” you snorted out a painful little laugh. “Name’s W___.”

“i had like three moms, disambiguation became a habit.”

“Three? Fair en-- _I am not your mother_. I am barely _their_ mother, don’t you start.” You pointed at the skeleton from flat on your back, your unamused expression must have looked more severe than you intended because he held both hands up.

“right. W___. need a hand?” His expression had, somehow, turned shifty.

You frowned harder at him for a moment before shakily trying to sit up. You managed it by inching against the tree and sighed. “Yeah. Prob’ly.”

He hauled you up, shockingly gentle this time. Apparently he had figured out how bad a shape you were in while you were unconscious. Once more your arm ended up over his shoulder, one of his around your waist gingerly. The steps leading up to a quaint house were painful and painfully slow, but you made it.

Frisk and the goat woman were both staring at you when the two of you came in.

“Mom!” Frisk dashed over. They and the skeleton shared another glare before settling on getting you settled in a massively oversized stuffed chair in front of a fire. The goat woman immediately brought over a potted plant, settling it next to the chair.

“I'm sorry, little one, there aren't many plants here in the underground to speed your recovery.” the goat woman smiled kindly at you, offering a hand to shake. You took it a little unsteadily, but smiled back. “I am Toriel, caretaker of these ruins. Sans is my assistant.”

“... Well they seem to be pretty sanitary as it is.” you couldn't help the stupid joke that popped out of your mouth, and internally cringed.

Sans the Skeleton broke first, a painful-sounding wheeze of laughter escaping him before the stress he’d been dumping all over the place broke with a fit of slightly hysterical giggles. Chuckles. "... i think she's gonna do fine."

Toriel let out a bark of laughter, bending over and outright cackling, slapping Sans gently on the back. Frisk groaned and put their head in their hands.

“I'm W___, by the way, and that's Frisk."

**Author's Note:**

> Human Mom, huh?


End file.
